


Novocastrian

by McG



Series: After the end [4]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, gratuitous location details, very minor cameos by Vera character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McG/pseuds/McG
Summary: A resource crisis takes James and Lizzie to Newcastle, where Mark has moved following his return from Australia.Oh, and someone’s just been murdered...





	Novocastrian

**Author's Note:**

> I am slowly (slowly!) working on this, the final part of the After The End series. 
> 
> I keep being distracted by other conmittments, but now that I have the story arc nailed down, I can at least post the prologue...

Mark Lewis woke up to the insistent beeping of his alarm clock. Blearily he hit the button to silence it then rolled out of bed, peeking out of the curtains at the sunrise creeping over the rooftops. 

A quick shower; black skinny jeans, a breton stripe top; then through to the kitchen for some breakfast. 

Finally, an hour after he'd rolled out of bed, he swung his leg over the crossbar of his bike, and set off to work. 

\---

James topped up his mug with coffee from the filter pot, and checked his watch. Two minutes until they were due into a meeting with CS Moody. 

He grabbed the packet of biscuits from the top of the fridge and made his way out of the break room. 

\---

The staff at Waterstones always used the side door to the building to open up in the morning, that way the main doors could be locked from the inside, the bolts being the most secure option. 

The side door was made of reinforced metal, and was on the side of the main building. The alley way through was the width of a normal road, albeit with barricades at the ends to stop through traffic. It also housed the big blue commercial bins. 

From behind which trailed an arm. 

\---

"Thanks for coming in early," Moody told Hathaway and Maddox, as they took seats across the desk from him in his office. "I've got a bit of a proposition for you." He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, hands clasped in his lap.

"You'll have heard about the problems that Northumbria Police have been having?" Moody asked. 

"An investigation into police corruption, their chief constable being sacked, and taking half their detective force with them?" James asked, by way of confirmation. 

"Quite." Moody agreed. 

James and Lizzie exchanged a glance, wondering where this was going. 

"Well, they're got a team seconded from the Met., who are formally reviewing working procedures and delivering training for their junior officers." Moody went on. "And they're recruiting for senior staff now, but that's going to take a few weeks to get underway. In the interim, they've asked for additional resources: they want some experienced officers to go up to Newcastle to deliver training, to be on-hand in a mentoring role, and to support any serious investigations. And your names have come up."

"Us, Sir?" Lizzie asked. 

"Well," Moody acquiesced, "Inspector Hathaway at least. Your reputation precedes you, apparently. But they have requested support at sergeant level, as well. So I'm sending you both, if you're amenable."

"What will this involve?" James asked. 

\---

Mark's commute took him from the rows of Victorian terraced flats, built to house industrial workers but now home to the bulk of Newcastle's student and young professional population, over the 1960s legacy of the central motorway and concrete flyovers, and through the Georgian heart of the city. 

A phalanx of police cars gave him pause by Monument, the 40m tall pillar casting a long shadow in the early morning sunlight. Police officers bustled around the side street between Waterstones and Jamie's Italian, police tape going up, and an officer moving on some nosy passers by. 

Deciding that they were in no way interested in a cyclist cutting across the pedestrianised top of Grainger Street, he carried on, then onto the grand imposing structure of Central Station, under the railway arches and into the newest redevelopment, Stephenson Quarter. He glanced at his watch as he finished locking his bike outside the office, still time to make proper coffee before the morning team meeting. 

\---

"It'll be a two-week assignment, initially." Moody explained. "Subject to review, depending on need. You'll be on hand in standard office hours, to support ongoing investigations. Mentoring the officers leading investigations, reviewing actions with them, that sort of thing. You'll also support them on-site if needed, but you won't be expected to make operational decisions yourselves, just to provide your wisdom and experience to help the officers in situ. You'll also need to liaise with the investigation team from the Met., provide feedback on any teething problems you see, inform and support the ongoing training that their Serious Crime team need, in your opinion."

"Will that not cause an issue with getting those officers to trust us?" Lizzie asked, worried that there would be a conflict of interest inherent in the dual role of supporting staff development and reporting back to a formal investigation. 

"Ideally not: you're there to support the team in-situ. They're asking for training and support, so you'll simply be backing up those requests with an objective outside view." Moody assured them. 

"Sounds fine to me," James agreed. Lizzie nodded. "When do we start?" 

"Ah well," Moody looked down and fiddled with the stack of files on his desk. "It was going to be next week, but, well, I've had a call this morning. As of seven o'clock this morning, they're investigating a suspected murder. So ideally, they want you to go there today." 

"Well," James announced, looking slightly startled, "I suppose we'd better go and back our bags." 

\--- 

It didn't take long for the James and Lizzie to go back to their respective homes, pack a suitcase for a couple of weeks, and reconvene at the police station. 

James tried calling Mark to tell him about his impending proximity, but when the call rang through to voicemail he didn't bother to leave a message. 

They both piled into James' company car, bags stacked in the boot, and set off on the long drive, stopping briefly as they exited Oxford to fuel up the car and buy snacks for the journey. 

James tried calling again when they stopped at Tibshelf services on the M1 to eat lunch and swap drivers. Coffee and cigarette carefully held in his left hand, with the phone in his right. When he got the voicemail message again, he fired off a quick text to Mark instead, asking him to call back. 

They were passing Darlington on the A1(M) by the time Mark returned James' call. Lizzie glanced over at the ringing phone and frowned slightly as James hit the button to reject it. 

"You're not going to take that?" she asked. Calls were usually work-related and therefore answered promptly. 

"No, it's nothing important," James answered, deflecting with a half smile. He opened the messaging app instead. 

James Hathaway  
Guess where Maddox and I are headed?  
15:02

Mark (Lewis)  
...prison? The Caribbean? Home? A pub?  
15:03

James Hathaway  
Does it help if I tell you we're on the A1?  
15:04

Mark (Lewis)  
Scotland??  
15:05 

James Hathaway  
Newcastle!  
15:07

Mark (Lewis)  
Whhhhhhy?  
15:10

James Hathaway  
Work. Two weeks babysitting the locals. They're somewhat short staffed at the senior level…  
15:11

Mark (Lewis)  
Ah, of course! Are we meeting for a pint then?  
15:14

James Hathaway  
I'd like that. Unsure what our itinerary is, but I'll let you know.  
15:15

James Hathaway  
Looking forward to it.  
15:15

Mark (Lewis)  
Excellent. Xx  
15:17

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Northumbria Police are a real police force who, so far as I know, are not facing large scale corruption issues. Their staffing challenges are only that there is not enough money, as with all police forces in the UK. 
> 
> This sideline of saying they’re dealing with a huge gap where loads of officers had to leave is a lie. It’s pure fiction because I wanted to engineer a reason for James to go to Newcastle.


End file.
